Part 9

Sir Robert Cotton’s house presents at first sight a difficulty. It is shown on the plan of 1626 as lying westward of the boundary within the York House property, but this appears to be a draughtsman’s error. Dr. Brushfield cites the lease (1608–9) “to Thomas Wilson of the Strand” of what is evidently this plot of land “lyeinge and beinge on the south side of the new buildinge lately erected and new builte by the Lorde Treasuror where Durham Stables did stande towardes the west ende of the same new buildinge next to the wall which divideth Yorke garden from Durham Yarde.” The plot measured 8 yards from the New Exchange southwards, and 7 yards from the York garden wall eastwards towards Durham Yard, and Wilson covenants not to build within 6 ft. of any window of the new building. Wilson built his house on this diminutive plot, and in 1618 he sold it for £374, the conveyance, as quoted by Dr. Brushfield, giving further evidence of its exact position, thus: “All that messuage or tenement with a garden ... together with one little yard lying upon the west syde of Durham House ... abuttinge on Brittaine Burse there on the North, the garden of the capital messuage called York House on the part of the West and on the passage leadinge from Brittaine’s Burse to the Ryver of Thames on the parte of the East and South.” The last words show that the passage skirted Wilson’s garden on two sides, and this is borne out by the break in the wall of Durham Court shown in the Smithson plan, the site having evidently been enlarged by purchase since the date of that plan at the expense of the area of the outer courtyard. In the 1626 plan, Sir Thomas Wilson, who was in the service of Cecil and was the first manager of the Exchange, is shown as occupying another house near Durham House Chapel. He seems to have built it before he disposed of his first house, which, as we have seen, was occupied in 1626 by Sir Robert Cotton.

As regards the fabric of the New Exchange itself, we can see by the Smithson drawing that it was originally intended to be of two storeys in height, with elaborate central and end gables (apparently having false windows) and two small intermediate gables. The elevation to the Strand was skilfully designed, the building having two open arcades of six round arches on the ground floor placed between the end and middle blocks. The front was decorated with two orders of pilasters, superimposed, and the windows of the first floor were circular-headed where they appeared over the arches below, but were square below the gables. Entrances were arranged through the eastern and western arch of the arcade and through a similar archway in the centre.

That this design was carried out is evident from the careful water-colour drawing of T. Hosmer Shepherd, which, though drawn many years after the destruction of the building, must have been based on an actual view. The Exchange is here shown with an attic storey, and the Jacobean gables have disappeared in the general remodelling of the upper part, which, with its long cornice and dormer pediments, suggests the early part of the eighteenth century. An intermediate stage is represented in an engraving reproduced by Dr. Brushfield, where the attic storey is also shown, but the first-floor windows are still with circular heads, and the little medallions of the Smithson plan still appear. The pilasters, however, are lacking above the arcade, and it is possible that these were omitted from the first.

The internal arrangements of the Exchange show an inner and outer walk which was repeated on both floors, each walk being occupied with small booths or shops, the space allowed for the latter being 8½ ft. and for the walk 10 ft. A large number of small traders, such as jewellers and milliners, took advantage of this method of showing their wares, which was already in vogue at the Royal Exchange, and James I. followed Elizabeth’s precedent in regard to the latter building by opening it in person, naming it at the same time “Britain’s Burse.” At one time, notably at the Restoration, the place became very fashionable, and the trade was extremely brisk. A basement (the steps to which are shown at the back of the building in the 1626 plan, and are marked “the alehouse where the priest was taken”) was let as a tavern, and here, too, it seems that Pepys went for his daily glass of whey when that drink was in fashion. The “taverne underneath” is referred to in a series of verses entitled “The Burse of Reformation” (1658), written in alternate praise and depreciation of both the old (Royal) and the New Exchanges. The slope of the bank towards the river would probably raise this basement largely above ground and give the Exchange the appearance of an extra storey towards the south.

The New Exchange undoubtedly proved a great success, and its principle of including many shops under one roof has been often imitated down to our own day, although the great Stores are now doing the same thing more completely under one ownership. We are told that it fell in popularity after the accession of George I., and in 1737, after an existence of 128 years, it was taken down. As one of the well-known resorts of fashion of the seventeenth century it has an important place in the contemporary dramatic and periodical literature, and several books bear the imprint of publishers who hung out their signs at Britain’s Burse. The Smithson drawings are therefore a welcome addition to our information, and are interesting in giving us the architect’s own draft of a Jacobean building of somewhat singular requirements.

—W. H. G.

ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM, CLERKENWELL

XI.

ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM, CLERKENWELL.

Of the numerous and varied by-products of the Crusading spirit, none possess a greater fascination and interest than those extraordinary associations known as the Military Orders. The combined influences of fanaticism and military ardour succeeded in uniting in them the ascetic and the soldier, with so marked a success that their vital force was not finally extinguished until ages after the whole fabric of mediævalism had crumbled away and the Knights of Malta were one of those hoary anachronisms which, like the Holy Roman Empire, were swept ruthlessly away by the new broom of the Napoleonic wars. Of the two great orders the Templars, largely, perhaps, owing to their early and tragic end, have always attracted a greater proportion of attention, and in London their name and memory are kept green by the church and precinct which are still with us. The Hospitallers, on the other hand, are in great measure neglected, as comparatively little is left of their London house to show the extent and magnificence of the great dwelling in Clerkenwell of the Grand Prior of England, who took precedence of all the temporal members of the House of Peers.

The loss that English architecture suffered by the destruction of this building can only be appreciated when one considers that the Priory of St. John of Jerusalem stood alone and unique. The requirements of the order demanded a building equally apart from the usual monastic plan and from the purely secular establishment, and the direct and continuous connection of the order with the East would argue the existence of ideas and arrangements more foreign and less insular than are observable in contemporary English work.

Up to the present the information available as to the buildings of the Hospitallers has been practically _nil_, a couple of drawings by the indefatigable Hollar being the only record of their appearance.

Amongst the MSS. of Loseley Hall, that collection which has already supplied so much information on London topography, is a short document giving a complete list of the buildings with their approximate dimensions. The survey is one of a numerous class taken at the time of the general suppression in order to arrive at a valuation of the lead from the roofs of the dissolved monasteries. That the surveyor did his work with great care and accuracy is evident from the minute nature of some of the entries, and even the gutters and down-pipes are all included in the estimate. The survey, of course, fails us in regard to the arrangement of the various buildings, and so little is known of structures of this class that it is impossible to argue by analogy. The buildings of the order at Rhodes have been the subject of a recent monograph, but here the “auberge” of the English “langue” is amongst the most fragmentary and ruinous, while the palatial dwellings and gorgeous church at Malta have little bearing on the subject, as they are of late construction and the English “language” was then extinct. Schloss Marienburg in Prussia, the headquarters of the Teutonic order, is perhaps the best preserved of these structures: and here the main building follows the ordinary monastic plan, with such modifications as were necessary to secure also a fortress of no mean strength.

The London church of the Hospitallers has passed through more vicissitudes than almost any other building in the city. Founded during the reign of Stephen, the first building had a circular nave 65 ft. in diameter and a short choir, with a crypt under, probably terminating in an apse.[25]

[25] The foundations of the “Round” have been partially uncovered, and it must have been similar in character and dimensions to the Temple Church. The remains of a third circular church, the first home of the Templars in London, were discovered, many years ago, on the south side of Holborn, so that the metropolis once possessed three buildings of this class.

Towards the close of the century the proportions of the choir proved insufficient, and a large aisled structure, four bays long, was raised in its place, being duly consecrated by Heraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, in 1185. The church remained in this form until the rising of the commons under Wat Tyler in 1381, when the rebels, besides murdering the prior, set the house on fire, “causing it to burn by the space of seven days together, not suffering any to quench it.” The round nave was never rebuilt, its successor being a rectangular three-aisled building with a magnificent tower at the north-west corner. At the dissolution in 1540 the house was not touched, but a few years later the nave with the great tower fell a victim to Protector Somerset. The choir was walled in and again applied to its original purpose during Queen Mary’s reign, but once more desecrated under her successor. It served in turn as a private chapel and a dissenting meeting-house until 1721, when the remains, patched and repaired, became the parish church of St. John’s, Clerkenwell.

The crypt under the present church is the finest of these structures still standing in London. It is of two dates, the western portion of the central aisle being contemporary with the foundation. The quadripartite ribbed vaulting with broad responds and transverse bands between the bays belongs to the simpler type of Norman work. The two eastern bays with the flanking chapels were added when the aisled choir was built above (1185). The pointed vaulting springs from clustered shafts, and the whole is an elegant example of transitional work of the same date and character as the still existing “Round” of the Temple Church. Of the aisled choir above, the outer walls and the bases of the columns remain, but this part of the building underwent extensive alteration under Prior Thomas Docwra (1501–27), who inserted the windows and constructed two buildings against the south wall. Both of these can be identified from the Loseley Survey as the vestry on the east and “My lord Dockerys chappell.” The latter was entered by two wide brick arches piercing the side wall, the earlier buttresses between being pared away at the angles to form semi-octagonal piers.

The nave of the church was also of three aisles, the length of the leads being respectively thirty, twenty-nine, and twenty yards. The discrepancy of the north aisle is accounted for by the presence, at its western end, of the great tower, described by Stow as “a most curious piece of work graven, gilt, and enamelled, to the great beautifying of the city.” The tower was evidently about ten yards square, and its position is still marked by a set-back in the existing building line; the lead from the steeple was about the same in quantity (five fothers) as that covering one of the side aisles.

The later work in the church all dates from the foundation of the parish in 1721. The massive carved hood over the west door is an admirable piece of woodwork of that date, the carved panel of the three Saints John in the door-head being a modern addition.

The simple and unpretentious reredos is a no less satisfactory example of early eighteenth-century work, but the remainder of the building calls for little remark, the plain west front and galleried interior presenting no features of special interest.

Turning now to the domestic portion of the “hospital,” we find an extensive range of embattled buildings, with a pleasantly diversified outline, depicted in Hollar’s view on the north side of the church, and there is little doubt that the principal apartments occupied this side.

Remains of vaulted substructures, on the opposite side of St. John’s Square, prove, however, that the buildings extended far beyond the destroyed nave in this direction. The Loseley Survey apparently starts with the buildings shown by Hollar and passes westward. The first building mentioned is a house called the Priests’ Dorter, 120 ft. long, and evidently the dormitory of the knights; next follows the “Armoury,” 54 ft. long, and very narrow, as the roof measures only 9 ft. on either side of the ridge. The great chamber with other apartments formed a block 120 ft. long, with the great staircase, 24 ft. by 18 ft., at one end of it. Connected with these buildings were numerous smaller chambers, the use of which is generally unspecified, but evidently offices, as they include a “stillitorne,” or distillery, a “comptyng house,” and the wardrobe. The Prior’s Lodging contained a parlour and “my lordes chamber,” and the great hall was a magnificent apartment 105 ft. in length.

Towards the end of the list mention is made of “a tyled rooffe which was called the Yeoman’s Dorter,” so that the house at Clerkenwell contained definite accommodation not only for the knights but also for a lower grade, the yeomen, who were perhaps body servants and attendants.

The great gate of the precinct which still spans St. John’s Lane was built by Prior Docwra, and though drastically restored is still in outward appearance largely as he left it. The finely ribbed vault to the gate itself is untouched, and the interior contains many remains of ancient work. Chief among these is the handsome carved fireplace originally in the “Baptist’s Head” tavern, and bearing the arms of Sir Thomas Forster, who died in 1612. The carving on the frieze is of considerable delicacy, and the design is quite unusual.

It is a singular fact that only two representations of members of the order have survived in English monumental art, namely, an emaciated figure to Prior Weston in St. James’s, Clerkenwell, and the effigy of Prior Fresham at Rushton (Northants). The former died within a few months after the suppression of his house, and the remainder of his monument was removed when St. James’s Church was rebuilt.

The smaller establishments of the Knights Hospitallers in England have suffered even more than the mother house, and their remains are few and inconspicuous. The circular church of Little Maplestead, Essex, is, however, an exception, and the building has suffered far more from restoration than decay. The three “Early English” chapels at Moor Hall (Middlesex), Swingfield, and Sutton-at-Hone, Kent, are also relics of the order, and the little establishment at Chibburn, Northumberland, is still almost complete; but though not lacking in individual interest, they were at best but granges of the great dwelling at Clerkenwell, which was the combined recruiting and receiving house of the order in England.

—A. W. C.

NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE, STRAND

XII.

NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE, STRAND.

Of olden time London’s great highway was the Thames, and this important fact must be remembered when we would cast our minds back to the times of Hollar, who portrayed our picturesque city with such infinite art. So busy was the traffic that Stow tells us in the year 1598 “that, omitting to speak of great ships and other vessels of burthen, there pertaineth to the cities of London, Westminster, and the borough of Southwark, above the number, as is supposed, of two thousand wherries and other small boats, whereby 3,000 poor men, at the least, be set on work and maintained.” Nor does this include, presumably, the barges of state and those of the noblemen and rich citizens, to whom the barge was as important a possession as the motor-car of to-day, and an object of even greater pride. The changed position and character of the main artery of the city’s life and movement is responsible—perhaps as much as the passing of its ancient buildings—for the difficulty which we of the present day experience in attempting to enter into the spirit of mediæval and Tudor London.

As was natural, the northern bank of the great highway of the Thames held the most coveted sites for the residences of kings, nobles, and prelates. William FitzStephen, in his oft-quoted description of London towards the end of the twelfth century, tells us that “nearly all the bishops, abbots, and magnates of England are, as it were, citizens and freemen of London, having there their own splendid houses to which they resort, where they spend largely when summoned to Great Councils by the King or by their Metropolitan, or drawn thither by their own private affairs.” From the “Palatine Castle”—the Tower of London—in the east, to the western limits of the city and its liberties, the bank was furnished with fine buildings. “Also upwards to the west the Royal Palace [Westminster] is conspicuous above the same river, an incomparable building with ramparts and bulwarks, two miles from the city, joined to it by a populous suburb.”

As early, then, as 1190 the Palace of Westminster was joined to Temple Bar by a “populous suburb” of houses, described later by Stow as “memorable for greatness,” that looked on to the fair “river of Thames.” The Elizabethan chronicler gives us an interesting account of them in his day. After the new Temple, going westwards, one came upon Essex House, formerly built by the Bishops of Exeter and again new-built by an Earl of Leicester before the Earl of Essex lodged there and gave it the name which the street on its site still bears. Next was Arundel House, first built by the Bishop of Bath, and increased under the occupation of Lord Thomas Seymour, Admiral. Here again the present Arundel Street preserves the name of the Earl who lived there in Stow’s time. West of this was Somerset House, built first by Edward Duke of Somerset in 1549—a building of princely size, upon the site of which stood formerly an Inn of Chancery called Strand Inn—and the three houses of the Bishops of Llandaff, Chester, and Worcester. Beyond the Bishop of Worcester’s stood the great Hospital of the Savoy, founded by Henry VII. on the ruins of the beautiful palace which had had a chequered history since its erection in 1245 by Peter of Savoy. Next came the Earl of Bedford’s house, formerly the London home of the Bishop of Carlisle, and adjoining it the large and stately house of brick and timber the work of Sir Robert Cecil, builder of Chelsea House and Hatfield. The great hotels, the Savoy and the Cecil, still witness to the importance of these river sites, the beauty of which, however, has in such large measure departed. Another bishop, the Bishop of Durham, had the next house to Cecil’s. (_Vide ante_ p. 154.) Then came the house formerly of the Bishop of Norwich, but in Stow’s time belonging to the Archbishops of York, and called of them York House. It came later into the hands of the Duke of Buckingham, and the little water-gate in the Embankment Gardens—still called York Stairs—together with the names of Buckingham and Villiers Streets, commemorates its vanished glories.

York House seems to have been the last of the great houses on the riverside until one came to the precincts of the Palace at Whitehall, but between it and the Palace we learn there were “divers fair tenements lately built,” and also “an Hospital of St. Marie Rouncivall by Charing Cross where a fraternity was founded in the fifteenth of Edward IV., but now the same is suppressed and turned into tenements.” Thus Stow describes the site on which, within seven years of the date of his survey, was to rise the magnificent house of the Earl of Northampton, afterwards occupied by the Percies, and since known as Northumberland House. It remained the principal landmark at Charing Cross until its ruthless destruction in 1874, when it followed the fate of the old hospital, being in its turn “suppressed” and its site disposed among the buildings of the new Northumberland Avenue.